


Obligatory Evening Activities: Be Festive. Dance. Steal Ackbar's Whiskey.

by ladymedraut



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Life Day (Star Wars), and the festive shenanigans of rebel intelligence, being their disaster selves, fulcrum trio, set in whatever post-rebels au has all the fulcrums on yavin iv at the same time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:54:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27929344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymedraut/pseuds/ladymedraut
Summary: “Alright, which one of you laserbrains put a Life Day tree in the office.”In which Ahsoka and Cassian make it their mission to show Kallus that Rebel Intelligence throws the best Life Day party on base. There's drinks, there's dancing, and there may be just a bit of double-crossing.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

"Alright, which one of you laserbrains put a Life Day tree in the office." Kallus crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his fellow operatives with as much of his old Imperial vitriol as he could muster. Unfortunately, Imperial vitriol had never had much of an effect on the two beings who were currently standing in front of him, sporting perfectly innocent expressions on their faces. 

The problem with working with spies was that they were very, very good at concealing information. 

"Are you saying you're against Life Day, Captain?" Andor deadpanned. 

"I am against Life Day when there is a _tree_ on my _desk_ , clanker-head. Some of us actually have _work_ to do around here." He reached out to pick up the large pot and relocate it to Andor's station if the man was so fond of it, but the plant darted out of his grasp. 

"Intelligence is having a party for Life Day this evening. Attendance is mandatory." The Togruta's grin showed off just how sharp her teeth were. 

"Attendance of this tree on my desk is not, Tano."

"I will remove the tree on these terms." She stated her terms, and Andor's stoic façade finally dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

Kallus looked at his desk, looked at the other two Fulcrum agents, and sighed. "Fine. I surrender."

* * *

"I will murder you, slowly, inflicting every ounce of pain to the utmost of my capabilities if I _ever_ so much as catch wind of there being a holo of this."

"Shut up, it's perfect."

"I am wearing a sweater that's lit up like... like a Life Day tree!" A soft nerf-wool sweater, in a very acceptable shade of green, with the Fulcrum insignia on the front. A Fulcrum insignia that someone had electrified and was currently cycling through every color in the visible spectrum, and possibly a few in the non-visible spectrum too. 

Ahsoka grinned and plucked proudly at her own sweater, which was a truly violent shade of pink with a similarly electrified convor in the middle wearing a stockinged Life Day hat. "I know, aren't they awesome? I knew Rex and Wolffe had picked up some hobbies on Seelos, but I hadn't realized how good they'd actually gotten."

"I'm never taking this off."

Kallus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It has a giant, illuminated Jabba the Hutt and a Life Day tree on it, Andor. I never want to see that thing again. Stars, I don't even want to see it _now._ "

Cassian wrapped his arms protectively around his sweater. "You can pry this masterpiece off my cold, dead body."

"Challenge accepted—"

"Boys!" At Ahsoka's reprimand, Kallus froze mid-lunge. "Party first. Duel later."

Kallus fell in line as they made their way out of their shared living quarters and back to the Intelligence headquarters, grumbling, "I still don't understand why we're going to a party when there's work to be done." He doubled over from a sharp Togruta elbow to the ribs. 

"Lighten up! Besides, isn't boosting morale an important job? You can go back to work in the morning."

"Yeah, _you_ can," Cassian snorted. "I'll be enjoying my post-Life Day hangover."

This seemed like a bad time for Kallus to mention that he had never been to a party before. Sure, the Empire held the occasional gala, but those were more high society functions full of social posturing and backstabbing than they were festive parties. And galas weren't the kind of thing you went to as an ISB agent, unless you were there to participate in said backstabbing, occasionally quite literally. Birthdays, anniversaries, they all went unremarked on the Imperial calendar—except the anniversary of the Empire, of course. But Kallus had never participated in the more festive aspects of Empire Day. Once, he had been invited to drinks in the officer's lounge to celebrate someone's promotion, but he had politely declined. 

Kallus had also never had what he supposed would fall under the category of "work friends" before. The very idea of Konstantine trying to shove him in a festive sweater and drag him to a party was so outlandish that he almost cracked his grumpy façade with a laugh just thinking about it.

It was strange to have people— _friends_ —like Cassian and Ahsoka. They worked missions together, shared a corner of the office, sparred with one another in the early morning breeze, even bunked together in the same suite of rooms. And they played pranks on each other, stole drinks to take up to the roof of the temple together, threatened to push one another off into the humid Yavin IV air...

"Command to Kallus." Ahsoka waved her hand in front of his face, jerking him out of his musings. "You did bring a gift for the grab-bag I told you about, right?"

"I was considering pulling Andor's sweater off and putting that monstrosity in. No, don't look at me like that, it's right here." He held up a small, unmarked and unwrapped box. It was the best he could do with the two hours' notice Ahsoka had given him. 

"Good. Come on, Fulcrums, let's party." Before Kallus could protest, Ahsoka had linked arms with him and Cassian and was dragging them both through the door to where Intelligence had its headquarters. 

The room looked, no pun intended, like a war zone. The desks that Kallus had walked past mere hours before as his colleagues dragged him away had been pushed out of the way to make a makeshift dance floor, lights were strung up from every available perch, and someone had stuck a massive, decorated Life Day tree where Draven's station usually was. There were more drinks and snacks in one place than Kallus had ever seen before in the Rebellion. Or in his whole life, for that matter. 

"Intelligence and SpecForce usually team up for Life Day. Their joint parties are legendary," Ahsoka whispered in Kallus' ear, still dragging him and Cassian along with her as she made her way to the first drink station. "The pilots probably have more booze out in the hangar right now, but we have the best. Here, try this and tell me what you think."

She shoved a cocktail glass into his free hand that contained a liquid so violently purple it had to be toxic. But then he watched Ahsoka levitate one to her mouth—she still wasn't taking a chance on letting go of him or Cassian—and downed it in one go. 

Assuming that what was safe for Togrutas was more or less the same as what was safe for humans, Kallus gave his a tentative sip. It was... surprisingly tasty. Definitely highly alcoholic, but with a light jogun fruit flavor, and the color was vaguely reminiscent of—

"I'll give you one guess what that one's called," Cassian snickered. 

"If 'lasat' is the next word out of your mouth, I will make it your last, Andor."

Ahsoka was saved from having to Force-push them to opposite ends of the room by General Madine's entrance.

"I see you've got the boys on a short leash, Tano," Madine chuckled, swirling a glass of something dark red with what looked like leaves floating in it. 

"Until they promise not to destroy anything—including each other." Ahsoka glared at each of them in turn. 

"By the light of Lothal's moons, I swear I won't beat Andor to a pulp until after we leave the party." Kallus held up his hands in surrender as best he could. This was going to be a long night. 

Cassian snorted. "I won't let Kallus make a fool of himself failing to beat me up until after the party."

Satisfied for the time being, Ahsoka released their arms. "Go have fun, boys. But remember, I'm watching you." Cassian flicked her a lazy salute and swaggered off to a group of analysts currently playing some kind of modified dejarik game. Kallus took one look around the room and decided the safest course of action was to stick by Ahsoka, make himself visible for an hour or so, and then disappear back to their rooms. 

"Ever been to a Life Day party before, Alexsandr?" General Madine asked, reaching around Ahsoka to grab a handful of tiny cakes that looked vaguely like bark chips. "These are the best, would highly recommend grabbing some before they're all gone."

"No, sir, this is my first." Kallus nursed his purple drink slowly, suspecting that as soon as he was done, Ahsoka would have another for him to try. He also suspected that as soon as he started trusting her taste and let his guard down, she would pass him a glass of fighter fuel and laugh as he spat it halfway across the room. 

"This is a party, we're off duty. You can call me Crix."

"Yes, s— Crix."

"Oh, Nioma's got her flutes," Madine said, pointing out a Twi'lek captain from Intelligence who was twirling some kind of musical instrument around her fingers. "You going to play something for us?"

"Not until Finnilus gets their viol over here." She waved down a stocky Kiffar, also from Intelligence. "Lus, how much longer do you need to tune that thing?"

"I take it you're not familiar with Life Day dances, then, Alexsandr. And even if you were, Intelligence and SpecForce's are, ah, rather unique." Madine's grin was setting off warning klaxons in the back of Kallus' head. Surely they didn't expect him to dance, right? There was no way they were going to get him to make a fool of himself in front of all the people in the Rebellion most likely to keep extensive amounts of blackmail material on file. 

Ahsoka slammed back her second drink, and Kallus was beginning to suspect that Togrutas had a much higher alcohol tolerance than he had previously thought. "Drink up, muttonchops. As soon as Lus is done, you're going to learn a dance."

"I'd really rather not—"

Ahsoka flung an arm around his shoulder and pulled him in to whisper in his ear that this dance was one of Zeb's favorites. "And I have that on good intelligence from Hera."

"He's not even here, he's probably out with General Syndulla's pilots or the mechanics—"

"Don't act like you're not invited to the _Ghost_ to party with the Spectres after this."

"How do you—did you hack my datapad? _Again?!_ " Even more reason to leave this party as soon as possible. Clearly he needed to add another level of encryption to his messages, despite the fact they were already wrapped in more layers than a Tatooine moisture farmer on Hoth. 

"Uh, no, I didn't. Yet. Hera invited me and told me to make sure you came along too." A few faint notes from Lus' viol floated through the temple as they started to warm up. "Now, left hand on my waist, right hand finish that drink."

After briefly entertaining the thought of stomping down on Ahsoka's foot, delivering a sharp left hook to her jaw, and fleeing the room, Kallus read her her slight smile that she knew exactly what he was considering and if he tried it, he'd only end up getting his ass handed to him in front of all of Rebel Intelligence and SpecForce. 

"One dance," he ground out, finishing his drink. "Same threat from before if I ever catch wind of there being a holo of this. And then you find Laerte or someone if you want to torture anyone else."

Across the room, Finnilus and Nioma were pulling each other up onto a pair of desks that Kallus hoped weren't his and Cassian's. "You nerfherders better dance," the Twi'lek captain yelled as the Kiffar tucked their viol under their chin. "We gave up sleeping to practice these songs for you!"

Kallus found himself pulled onto the makeshift dance floor with half the other people in the room. He caught a brief glimpse of Madine dragging a scowling Draven onto the floor and was reassured that at least he wasn't the only one being ordered to go through with this ridiculous activity, and then he was too caught up in not tripping over his own feet to notice who else had joined them. 

Much to his surprise, he caught on fairly quickly. It was just a simple Alderaanian waltz, nothing fancy. Thanks to some combination of Ahsoka's instruction and his own honed reflexes from close quarters combat training, he was flowing through the motions a few minutes after the music started. It was almost— _almost_ —enjoyable. If not for the fact that it would undoubtedly be more productive for the Rebellion if he was actually working at his station instead of dancing over the spot where it used to be—if there was a single sheet of flimsi out of order the next morning, he was going to be having strong words with Draven—Kallus might have even considered smiling. 

And then Finnilus and Nioma changed key. 

"This is where things get interesting," Ahsoka yelled over the music. 

"What does that mean?"

"Just follow my lead!" 

Kallus jumped as someone tapped his shoulder, and he craned his neck around to see that a large wroshyr leaf cut out of flimsi had been attached to his back. Around the dance floor, a similar leaf had been placed on one person in each dance pair. 

"Are we ready?" Finnilus called out without a pause in their playing. They grinned at the answering roar of approval. "You know the rules. Last pair standing wins. Battle stations, everyone!"

"One of Crix's commando teams came up with this one when they were bored. It caught on very quickly," Ahsoka explained, continuing to lead him through the steps of the dance. "Rules are simple. Keep moving, don't let anyone take that leaf off your back. I'll try to grab other people's leaves—jump!"

At Ahsoka's command, Kallus hopped into the air, and she spun him around out of an Ugnaught's reach. "Can't you just use the Force and win this in a couple seconds?"

"Force-pulling the leaves is against the rules—spin me right!" Ahsoka spun under his raised arm, ducking slightly to avoid hitting it with her montrals, and reached out to gently pluck the leaf off of Cassian's back. "Better luck next time, Andor!" The flimsi leaf fluttered to the ground and was immediately lost under dancing feet. "Kallus, your turn!"

Ahsoka twirled back and flung Kallus out in the opposite direction. Madine's hand swiped through the air where Kallus' back bad been a moment before. 

"You go left—" Ahsoka narrowly missed grabbing another leaf as Kallus swayed out of the way of a reaching Twi'lek hand. 

"You know you're giving away our position," he said as they came face to face again. 

"You ready to really do this?" She smiled another one of those sharp Togruta grins. 

"Try me!"

The music increased in temp as they whirled faster and faster, cueing each other with a touch or a nod or a glance—or the occasional cry of _"duck!"_ —until Kallus would have almost said that he was enjoying himself. There was something quite exhilarating about testing himself against the rest of Rebel Intelligence and SpecForce, proving to them that he wasn't some rigid ISB agent anymore, that he was all deadly, fluid Fulcrum grace now.

A few minutes later, they were one of only two pairs left on the floor. 

"And it's Fulcrum versus Command!" Andor's voice rang out from the sidelines, where he had taken over announcing after getting tagged out. "Can Tano and Kallus make it against reigning champions Madine and Draven? The Fulcrums have the Force on their side, but they've also got a rookie on their team. Ooh, Tano lunges and Madine spirits Draven out of the way1 Madine moves in—oof, that's gotta hurt."

Ahsoka landed with grace after delivering a midair kick to Madine's wrist, knocking it away from Kallus. 

Madine and Draven were good. Very good. They certainly hadn't gotten their champion titles because the other rebels had just let their commanding officers win. But if he could get close enough to distract Madine...

"No brawling," Ahsoka hissed. "Throwing punches is against the rules. Everyone still has to be fit for duty in the morning."

Of course she had read his mind. Even if she didn't have the Force, they had worked together long enough that his head was probably transparisteel to her. 

"One could argue I was just dancing poorly."

"No."

"Ugh, fine. Plan B." They circled around the dance floor, dodging Madine and Draven's attempts to back them into the desks until Kallus was satisfied that he had the other team where he wanted them. "Hey, Draven! Nice ugly sweater, you look like bantha shit!" As Draven and Madine turned to glare at him, Ahsoka spun him out so his own Life Day sweater from Rex was in full view. With his free hand, he reached down to the hem and touched two wires together, and the whole Fulcrum insignia lit up in a flash of blazing white light.

The moment the other team took to blink the spots out of their eyes was all Ahsoka needed to dart in and pluck the leaf off Draven's back. 

"And we have our winners!" Andor yelled from the sidelines as Nioma and Finnilus played the final notes. "Team Fulcrum, with a move that's definitely not textbook but Kaytoo tells me isn't strictly illegal!"

"When did you have time to reprogram your sweater?" 

"While Andor was spouting poetics about his. I realized his was already weaponized—one good look at that thing makes you want to claw your eyes out—and I figured it would be easy to reprogram mine in a slightly classier manner."

"Huh. Good thinking." The fact that he had impressed Ahsoka was almost, _almost_ better than wiping that smug grin off Draven's face.

Slightly winded, Kallus made his way off the dance floor through a gauntlet of congratulatory back slaps and shoulder punches. If this was what parties were about, maybe they weren't a complete waste of time. Beating Draven in a game seemed to have done more for his standing in Intelligence than any of the missions he had assisted on in the past few months. When he reached the snack tables again, Madine handed him a slice of cake along with a firm handshake. 

"Good game. I see all that Fulcrum training is paying off."

"Are all the dances tonight some kind of competition?" As Kallus ate his cake, Nioma and Finnilus had launched into a new song that currently had everyone linking arms and dancing in a circle. 

"Most of them morph into something like that." Madine nodded toward the dance floor. "This one usually progresses to seeing how high you can throw someone in the air." He pointed out a system of pipes in the ceiling that looked like they could be load-bearing, provided the load wasn't too heavy. "The goal is to get a couple people—usually some of the lighter commandos—to the ceiling. If they can make it to a vent, they'll go see what they can raid from another division's party."

A realization suddenly clicked, and Kallus looked around the room with new appreciation. "This whole party is a training exercise." The drink carts had a whole galaxy's worth of drink options for agents to test their resilience to. The music playing and the standard dancing were valuable opportunities to practice skills for undercover missions. The games all hinged on feats of dexterity and reflex that worked in conjunction with their training. Did everyone who was drinking and laughing and spinning around realize what was happening here? Were Madine and Draven watching their analysts and operatives, looking and who was best suited for which upcoming missions, what skills certain people needed to work on, who had previously untapped potential in certain areas? 

Madine raised his glass to Kallus and winked. "Don't let it stop you from having fun, though." 

Oddly, viewing the Life Day party as a series of training exercises actually helped Kallus relax. He wasn't shirking work to be here. He _was_ working, just in a different capacity. 

There was a whoop from the dance floor as Ahsoka launched herself into the ceiling and swung across the pipes to the rhythm of the music, along with a handful of Madine's commandos who had gotten there without the help of the Force. A Twi'lek pulled herself up on the pipe she was currently hanging onto and kicked in the grate to one of the vents in one practiced move. 

"Go raid the pilots!"

"Their booze tastes like fighter fuel—go for Ordnance and Supply!"

"Do High Command, we dare you!"

"Do _not_ steal from High Command!" Madine hollered after the strike team as they disappeared into the vent. The last being in line saluted in acknowledgement, but the gesture was mockingly insincere. "If they get Ackbar's Mon Cala whiskey again, I'm never going to hear the end of it."

"You could give him a heads up," Kallus pointed out, gesturing to Madine's comm. "Let's see what they do when someone's tipped off their quarry." 

There was a glint in Madine's eye as he raised the comm to his mouth that Kallus was beginning to recognize with something approaching humorous anticipation. "Strike Team B, move in." Looking up sharply to scan the room, Kallus caught Andor and two other operatives casually making their way to the nearest refresher. Madine turned back to Kallus with a raised eyebrow. "You want in?"

"One Fulcrum per team seems only fair." 

"I knew I liked you for a reason." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a shocking plot twist, I wrapped up the second (and last) chapter of this early!

"I sincerely hope your plan doesn't involve me trying to be discreet." Kallus picked at his still-glowing Life Day sweater. What was the battery life on the thing? How much of its power had he drained with that flash?

"Oh, we're only here to be a distraction. It'll be perfect." Madine grabbed his arm, and before Kallus could protest, he was being dragged in front of High Command. 

His face flushed as red as the drink in Mon Mothma's hand as every eye in the room turned to him and Madine. It would have been less painful to have been called before Command for some official reprimand than to have the leaders of the Rebellion see him in a luminescent Life Day sweater with his hair still wild from dancing and something that might have been approaching a smile on his face. He couldn't exactly threaten the people in this room with, well, anything if they ever brought this up again. 

"Crix! You finally decided to show up!" Oh, Airen Cracken, the Chief of Intelligence, was here. That was great. Just great. Maybe Cracken wouldn't recognize him, he hadn't really ever spent that much time around the man... "Ah, and Captain Kallus. Alexsandr, right? Not planning on stealing anything for your friends back in Intelligence, I hope."

"No, sir." How had he gotten himself roped into this? He should have taken the opportunity to give Madine the slip on their way from Intelligence HQ to the room Command had turned into their lounge and run back to his quarters. Ahsoka and Cassian had both been out of the room, they wouldn't have even known he'd left the party until it was already too late. 

But now Madine was laughing and dragging him over to a corner of the lounge that afforded them a clear view of the vent in the ceiling. The only way Kallus was getting out of this mess was seeing it through to the end, unless he wanted to abandon Madine. Something told him that walking out on the general would not be a wise move. For all his apparent glee at inane schemes, Madine was a well-respected leader and a valuable ally to all the Fulcrum agents. 

"I stole Ackbar's whiskey earlier tonight," Madine said. "He never brings it out until after Mon Mothma's toast, so he shouldn't have noticed. That bottle there," he pointed to an elaborate blue crystal decanter sitting on the drink table, "is Decoy A. Andor has the real bottle, which he'll swap with Tano's Decoy B somewhere in the ventilation system. Tano will swap the bottle she is now in possession of with the bottle on the table, unaware that she's really taking Decoy A and replacing it with the real thing. Ackbar shouldn't notice a thing, I keep my skin in one piece, and Tano's strike team should get a nasty surprise when they go to drink Decoy A. A pretty good plan, if I do say so myself."

"And what are we doing?" If Madine had subjected him to Command's holiday party for nothing... 

"We're here to distract Ackbar until our friends in the vents show up."

"Surely, _surely_ , there was a less complicated way of doing this," Kallus said, fighting the urge to shake the shorter man by his shoulders. 

"Oh, absolutely. But where's the fun in that?"

This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. They didn't have time to be acting like children when the Empire was still out there, preparing for stars-knew-what. Even if this whole operation could be conceived of as a sort of training mission—

"Kallus?" The voice sliced through his thoughts like a lightsaber. 

"General Syndulla—"

"For the last time, call me Hera or I _will_ make Davits ground you. Is that one of Rex and Wolffe's abominations? Hmm. Not bad." Hera, sporting her own oversized Life Day sweater patterned with a pack of loth-cats playing in the snow, grabbed a plate of cookies from a passing astromech and collapsed in a chair behind him. "What are you doing at Command's party?"

"General Mad—Crix invited me. What are _you_ doing here?"

Hera rolled her eyes at him. "I am Command, laserbrain. I'm taking advantage of that to load up on snacks to take back to the hangar. _Someone_ burned our last batch of cookies." For the first time, Kallus noticed Chopper following Hera with a large crate of assorted baked goods. He looked not at all repentant for lighting the pilots' cookies on fire. "You're still coming to the _Ghost_ later, right?"

"Oh, don't you worry. Ahsoka's promised—threatened?—to drag me there once we're done with Intelligence."

"Good. Zeb would be disappointed if you just went back to your quarters to keep going through transmission logs."

The thought had, in fact, crossed Kallus' mind once or twice. The look on Hera's face implied that she was fully aware of this and had no qualms about ruthlessly hunting him down to ensure that he showed up. 

Kallus was saved from further threats from Hera by a flicker of motion overhead. Blue and white... Ahsoka. Strike Team A had arrived right on schedule.

Hera followed his gaze up to the vents and smirked. "Ah, I should have known. Well, I'll leave you to your mission. See you later."

His comm pinged, and Andor's muffled voice came across. "Fulcrum Two to Fulcrum Three, package is away."

"Confirmed, Fulcrum Two," Kallus replied. He jumped slightly as Madine flung an arm around his shoulder. 

"Beautiful. If only all our plans against the Empire worked this flawlessly. Ackbar should be giving his toast just about... now."

Like clockwork, Ackbar cleared his throat and began delivering a short toast to his fellow officers and the entire Rebellion. Kallus didn't quite catch everything he was saying, since he was slightly more focused on the bright blue decanter that was taking advantage of everyone else in the room being distracted to defy gravity and float up toward the vent. A slim hand grabbed it and sent an identical decanter floating back down to the table. 

With a timing that was so perfect Kallus felt the hair on his arms start to tingle, Ackbar walked over to the drink table in the corner and pulled the stopper out of the crystalline blue decanter. 

"I have a bad feeling about this," Kallus muttered under his breath. Next to him, Madine seemed unconcerned. 

Ackbar raised the glass to his lips, and Kallus knew with absolute certainty that something was off. Some little voice whispering in the back of his mind, some piece of the puzzle he hadn't seen clearly yet... Had Cassian not swapped the bottles? No, that had definitely been his voice on the comm. Ahsoka was good at many things, but even she couldn't fool Kallus into mistaking her for Cassian. 

Cassian. Of course, Cassian.

Too late, the pieces clicked together. 

_"CRIX!"_ Ackbar bellowed, spitting the vile liquid that was definitely not his whiskey clear across the room. 

"Karabast." Kallus grabbed Madine's arm and started hauling him toward the door. It was time to make an exit. 

"I don't understand, I tracked all the bottles, that's the real one..."

Kallus' gaze flickered to the vent overhead, where he could just barely pick out the sound of muffled laughter. "Did it occur to you that Captain Andor has a noted fondness for Mon Cala whiskey, General?"

"That kriffing sithspit double crossed me. I ought to give him a promotion for this. Andor must have lifted the real bottle earlier tonight and swapped it for my decoy. The bastard."

By some miracle, Ackbar hadn't spotted them yet. The Command lounge was not a large area, and there were enough people packed into it that the Mon Calamari would have a hard time picking them out. Much as it pained Kallus to admit it, the hideous Life Day sweaters were actually something of a good disguise. People's eyes were more drawn to the sweater than his face, and no one would expect him to be wearing something so ridiculous. 

For one terrifying heartbeat, he thought they were done for when General Cracken caught his eye and undoubtedly recognized him. But the Chief of Intelligence just winked and yelled into the chaos that Madine was in the opposite corner of the room. 

"Come on, we can catch them before they get back to Intelligence."

"If we get this whiskey back, you're getting a promotion too."

"Please don't give me a promotion for this."

Kallus and Madine raced through the temple, heading for the point where the upper level's main ventilation shaft opened into the jungle. Strike Teams A and B would have to scale down part of the outside of the temple to get back into the Intelligence level shafts, and Kallus would have bet anything that they were going to take a moment to celebrate outside. 

"Do I want to know why you brought a grappling gun to a Life Day Party?" Madine asked as they set themselves up on the stones above the vent exit. 

"I could ask you the same thing." In truth, he and Cassian had started carrying them around to keep up with Ahsoka on their escapades around the base. After the first time she had used the Force to hurl them up the side of the temple to a ledge containing a whisper bird nest they had been asked to relocate since the adults kept interfering with one of the landing pads, they had taken the first chance to track down a pair of grappling guns. Ahsoka had seemed mildly disappointed that she no longer had an excuse to toss them around, but reluctantly admitted that it was probably good they didn't grow to rely on her abilities too much. Despite the time they spent together on base, it was rare that more than one of them was placed on the same mission. 

Right on cue, the two rogue strike teams spilled out of the vents and onto the roof, laughing in the cool evening air. 

"Did you _see_ Admiral Ackbar's face?"

"I would kill to see Madine's!"

"Well, you're in luck." Madine rappelled off the stones above, and while the commandos were distracted by the appearance of their general, Kallus swung down and plucked the bottle of Mon Cala whiskey right out of Andor's grasp. 

"Kallus!" Andor yelled as the grappling gun pulled him back up to safety. "I can't believe Madine roped you into this... You have no excuse to dodge out of parties now, you are _clearly_ enjoying yourself!"

"If every party involves me making a fool of you, Andor, I will gladly attend. Madine, I believe this is yours to triumphantly return."

Madine took the decanter with a grin. "Thank you, Captain. Good work." And then, into his comm, quietly enough that the rebels below couldn't hear, "Airen, Davits. Mission accomplished. Join me on the roof for a drink? Yes, yes, I know I didn't intend to steal it this year, but if Ackbar is going to blame me for its disappearance anyway, I might as well be the person who gets to enjoy it, hm?"

Kallus could have told Ahsoka and Cassian that Madine was not, in fact, returning the decanter to Command, but that would have only incited a rooftop chase. He was already starting to sweat in his nerf-wool sweater and the Yavin IV heat. He was not participating in an evening rooftop chase. Oh, he could have told Ahsoka and Cassian and let them go after Madine on their own if they chose to, but Kallus found that he was oddly reluctant to sit back and let his fellow Fulcrum agents have all the fun. 

"Are you ready to admit you're enjoying this yet?" Ahsoka smirked as they made their way back to the rest of Intelligence and SpecForce. 

"It is...oddly educational," Kallus admitted. 

Ahsoka gave him a look. 

"And...and..." It felt a bit like admitting surrender. "And it has been mildly entertaining."

"Ooh, did Alexsandr just admit he was having _fun?_ " Cassian punched him good-naturedly on the shoulder, and Kallus considered punching back considerably less good-naturedly but thought better of it. They had only been released by Ahsoka at the beginning of the evening with promises to avoid starting a scuffle until after the party was over, and Kallus did not want to risk getting tethered to her for the rest of the night. 

He was saved from further teasing from Cassian when Ahsoka announced that she and Kallus were going to the _Ghost_ before they kept little Jacen up too late past his bedtime, and Cassian was to call them back to Intelligence immediately if any particularly attractive shenanigans started brewing. 

"Come on," Ahsoka said, grabbing his arm and dragging him down the hall toward the hangar. "I brought all your Life Day gifts for the Spectres so you don't have any excuse to run back and hide in the room."

"I'm coming, I'm coming! I won't try to escape, I promise."

"Good, because I cannot wait to see Zeb's reaction to you in that ridiculous sweater."

* * *

Zeb's reaction was to start laughing uproariously, congratulate Ahsoka on actually getting Kallus to wear it, and to sit next to Kallus eating cookies and drinking hot chocolate for the rest of the evening. The _Ghost_ party certainly didn't serve the same practical purpose as the Intelligence one, but Kallus found that he didn't really mind all that much as long as he got to listen to Zeb humming carols while he nodded off on the Lasat's shoulder. He contemplated just sleeping on the _Ghost_ for the night, but Ahsoka eventually convinced him to return to Intelligence with her to pick up Cassian from whatever trouble he had gotten himself into. 

In what seemed a fitting parallel to how they had left their quarters at the beginning of the evening, Kallus and Ahsoka found Cassian half asleep in the corner his desk had been pushed into, slung his arms over their shoulders, and dragged him home. After a few awkwardly hunched steps, Ahsoka and Kallus just stood up straight and let Cassian's toes drag along the floor. 

"He'd better appreciate how tall we are," Kallus grumbled. 

"I highly doubt he'll remember this." Ahsoka used the Force to open their door, and together they heaved Cassian onto his bunk.

Cassian immediately rolled over and started to snore. 

"You know," Kallus yawned, pulling out a vibroblade from his boot. "If we get rid of that sweater now, we can pretend he lost it while he was passed out in Intelligence."

Ahsoka chuckled. "You know, I was just thinking the same thing."

With a combination of the Force, Kallus' vibroblade, and all their Fulcrum training, they managed to remove the Jabba Life Day sweater without waking Cassian up. After a brief debate on whether they should dispose of the evidence or keep it for blackmail, they decided to stash it on the _Ghost_ with Sabine the next morning. She would appreciate the art, and Cassian would never be able to steal it back from her without losing several limbs to explosives first. 

"So. What did you think of Life Day?" Ahsoka asked as she collapsed on her bed. 

Kallus hauled himself up the ladder to his bunk above Cassian. "Not bad. I'd do it again if I'm still alive this time next year."

"Next year I'll make sure you run into a nice, handsome Lasat to dance with." Kallus chucked his pillow at her head, which she of course caught gracefully. "Aw, thanks, I could use another pillow."

"Ahsoka! Give it back!"

"Nope. Mine now. G'night, Alexsandr." 

Just as Kallus had resigned himself to the fact that his own stupidity had cost him his pillow for the night, said object landed on top of his face. 

"Happy Life Day." 

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot, and then it got longer than anticipated (what can I say? I think the Fulcrum trio deserves to a) interact with each other, and b) have fun while doing it). This should be either two or three chapters now. Will try to have the second one up in the next two weeks or so... (You have my permission to bother me if it's not up by then. Self-imposed deadlines are not my strong suit.)


End file.
